Missing Moments: Love
by TheTwoDL
Summary: Missing Moments through Ron and Hermione's relationship.
1. Chapter 1

"I won!" a red headed boy delightfully shouted from a corner of the Gryffindor common room to his bespectacled friend, as a loud crash sounded from one of the latter's chess pieces dropping to the ground. Hermione looked up from her book disapproving at them. Didn't they understand that this was a _common_ room and not their own area, reserved for none but themselves.

She sighed, exasperatedly as the the black headed boy named Harry, eagerly replied, "Yeah, that was a really good game! Do you fancy another?" Hermione shook her head at their foolish lack of judgement. Honestly, they were playing a game of chess, when they should ideally be finishing their homework! She loudly tutted, looking back up at them, as another clash was heard from their table. Couldn't they have a little respect for their fellow students?

The red-headed boy raised an eyebrow at her in mock curiosity. "Something the matter?" he asked in an annoyingly contemptuous manner.

Hermione gave him a glare, before once again returning her attention to her book, as the two utterly immature boys caught each other's eye and started sniggering in the background.

* * *

"Say, Harry," Ron asked, trying to get some sort of an idea of what his Potions homework was all about, "do you know where a Bezoar can be found?"

"I have no idea," Harry said shaking his head, "perhaps in the apothecary at Diagon Alley?" Ron started guffawing madly.

"Good one," he laughed, pretending to jot it down, "and...what about it's uses?"

"Hmm, perhaps-" Harry started to say, before he was suddenly interrupted by none other than Hermione Granger.

"Excuse me," she said in tone that annoyed Ron immensely, "but I couldn't help listening to your supposed answers about what Bezoars were and I couldn't stop myself from wondering of how the concentration levels of the two of you were so limited. I thought I should let you know, for your sakes alone, that a bezoar is actually a stone that is removed from the stomach of a goat, and it is the ingestion of such a stone that is said to cure most poisons."

"One can't even get two minutes of fun in this place," Ron grumbled, once Hermione had finished rattling off her definition.

Harry nodded his head. "Thanks," he told her coolly, "but I think we can manage our homework ourselves, without being interrupted, if you please."

"Very well," Hermione responded agitatedly, taking a deep breath as if to prevent herself from blowing up, "don't come crying, then, if you receive double detention from Professor Snape, because of your pathetic homework."

"Don't worry," Ron called after her, as she stormed away, "we won't!"

* * *

Hermione gathered up her books, as she awaited Professor Flitwick to call out her name with that of whom she was to be paired with. As long as it wasn't either of those two stuck-up boys in her house, she didn't mind. However, luck seemingly, wasn't on her side.

"Miss Granger, you can work with Mr...Weasley," the charms Professor instructed, looking up from his register as Hermione reluctantly made her way over to the red headed boy's side with a dirty look fixed on her face.

"Afraid, I'll steal your fire?" the boy asked her in a cold, teasing voice, when she strode up to him.

"You wait," she replied with equal disregard and scorn, "I doubt you practised your 'swish and click' movement at all, anyway. You were to busy playing chess, were you not?"

The boy smirked. "We'll see," he told her as the class began.

* * *

"She's a nightmare, honestly!" Hermione heard the agitating freckled-face boy- Ron Weasley say in an annoying tone, which she did her best to ignore. "I Levi-O-sa, not levio-sar!" he mimicked, giving her a pointed glance, as the others around him laughed hysterically. Hermione widened their eyes as realisation dawned on her. Could they possibly we talking about her?

"It's a wonder she has no friends," the Weasley boy continued to drawl on. Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears. She walked forward hurriedly, past them, holding her books protectively at her chest as she stifled a sob.

"I think she heard you," the famous Harry Potter boy informed his teasing friend, as Hermione increased her walking speed to a brisk pace. How rude and mean were they? She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she hurried along the corridor, keeping here head low down.

After a while, she suddenly spotted a seemingly deserted area, from the corner of her eyes. Sniffing slightly, she hastily made her way ahead, to take refuge in the girls bathroom.

* * *

Hermione stood facing her two house mates. For a moment an awkward silence filled the air, before she quickly said, "I just wanted to say thanks for today," keeping her eyes fixed on the ground.

"It's alright," the boy named Harry told her, "thanks for covering up for us."

"Yeah," the Ronald Weasley boy agreed, taking Hermione by surprise, "sorry for insulting you. It was really brilliant of you to come up with a story like that in front of McGonagall."

"Yes," Harry nodded, "I would never have been able to do that, myself, you know."

"It was nothing," Hermione muttered, shrugging her shoulders absurdly, trying her best to pretend to be heedless of her fluttering heart.

* * *

"Hermine, come on!" Ron urged, pulling his friend by the hand, trying to get her away from her book, "Harry's practise would have already started five minutes ago!"

Hermione sighed deeply. Wringing her hands, she frustratedly responded, "Honestly, Ronald, you sound as if we're missing the match itself. Besides, it doesn't really matter since we've seen all his four previous practises and we probably will be seeing all the others which are soon to come."

"But, Hermione..." Ron groaned, "This is his fifth practise! It's important."

"As were his fourth, third, second, as well as his first!" Hermione retorted, a smug look fixed on her face. "Anyway, if the fifth one is so important to you as well, why don't you head down to the Quidditch Pitch yourself, without having to drag me along?"

"But, Hermione," Ron grumbled, "you're supposed to be there to support Harry as well! I don't want to go to the Quidditch Pitch on my own and sit there like a dunderhead!"

"Aha!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her seat, nearly blotting her parchment in the bargain, "so that's why me there- to give you company in acting like a dunderhead! I knew there had to be a reason!"

"Yeah, well," Ron sheepishly continued, "so, will you come?"

Hermione looked up at Ron, with a bemused expression. "Very well," she laughed, "though next time, you will have to try harder!"

* * *

_Dear Ron,_

_Merry Christmas! I hope that both you and Harry are well and are enjoying yourselves at Hogwarts. I am having a wonderful winter here with my parents, though missing the two of you immensely. _

_Apart from having a carefree time at Hogwarts, presumably both of you have not forgotten that the exams are around the corner, and hopefully, you are using the majority of your free time in a productive manner- catching up with your homework, along with doing additional research about what's hidden under the trap door._

_If you find anything interesting, I would love to know! Once again, a very merry Christmas to you!_

_All my love,_

_Hermione._

Ron read the letter a few times in his mind before folding it neatly and putting on his bedside table, away from all his other cards which were ready to be deposited in the bin. He then picked up the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that had been sent along with Hermione's letter and hastily opened it. Cautiously, he then picked out a blue coloured bean and placing it on his tongue, he began to nibble at it. Slowly, he let the taste of the bean fill his mouth...blueberry...

* * *

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked in a concerned voice, looking at his injured arm anxiously.

"I'm fine," Ron assured her, "I really am."

"It doesn't look to good," Hermione said, wincing at the blood which showed through his plaster, "Are you sure you don't need to go to Madame Pomfrey?"

"Hermione, it's really okay," said Ron kindly, "I'd rather be resting here than in the Hospital Wing anyway. You're a really good healer you know."

"Thanks," Hermione muttered self-consciously, as a pink tinge rose to her cheeks, "though I really think Madam Pomfrey would do-"

"Hermione, calm down!" Ron exclaimed, "It's just a dragon bite."

Hermione nodded, talking in his statement, "Just a dragon bite," she repeated.

* * *

"Hermione, for Merlin's sake," Ron begged, "please, just tell me the answer to the fifteenth question!"

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione groaned, "however will you manage in your exams? If I tell you each and every answer now, you're sure to fail!"

"Please, Hermione," Ron continued to plead, "if I don't complete this by tomorrow morning, Binns will kill me!"

Hermione sighed, "Look at the question, Ronald," she said, looking over at his homework, "'if one can't apparate inside Hogwarts, how are the apparation tests held inside the castle itself?'"

"I dunno," Ron said, confused.

"Haven't you ever read Hogwarts a History?" Hermione wearily asked him. Ron shook his head.

"For one hour, the charm in the castle which doesn't allow one to apparate is removed. During that time, students are able to practise for their apparation test, with the help of a supervisor." Hermione quoted from her textbook.

"Thanks," Ron told her in a relieved voice, as he scribbled down the answer, "Now...the sixteenth one, please!"

* * *

"Ron, please wake up, please!" Hermione whimpered, tears flooding her eyes.

"Ron, please," she continued, shaking him gently, "Harry needs us, Ron, get up!"

"Hermione?" Ron groggily asked, opening his eyes sleepily after a few minutes of repeated shaking, "what happened?"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, a smile dawning on her face, "you're- you're alive!"

"Well, yeah!" Ron agreed, "But where's Harry?"

Hermione's relieved look changed into a worried expression, "Ron, he went after him. He's currently battling Snape alone."

"Well, why didn't you go with him," Ron demanded, crossly.

"Ron, only one person could go further," Hermione tried to explain, tears emerging from her eyes, "we had to drink a potion each- one for going on and one for returning the same way. Harry told me to go back to you and get Dumbledore to help him!"

"Merlin," Ron muttered, "we better get going then." Hermione nodded her head apprehensively.

"C'mon," he said, lifting himself up as Hermione gingerly held his left arm for support, "let's go get Dumbledore."

* * *

Ron turned over in his bed and yawned slowly, memories of the previous night flooding his mind. Harry...the stone...Snape...He suddenly jerked awake and looked around unsurely.

"Oh, Ron, you're awake!" he heard a voice from his right saying. He turned around to see Hermione sitting up in the hospital bed, reading a book.

"Yeah, what happened? How's Harry?" he asked, sceptical of the answer he was to receive.

Hermione gave him an encouraging smile. "We caught Dumbledore in the nick of time," she explained, "He immediately went to Harry's aid, but as it so happens, Harry did most of the work on his own, just fine. He's still, unconscious, though," she added, indicating a sleeping Harry on the bed beside her.

A surge of relief went through Ron. They were safe. He nodded his head at Hermione and slowly pulled himself out of bed.

"Where're you going?" Hermione questioned, as he strode over to the door.

"Outside," Ron casually replied in a merry voice, we've got a full day ahead if us to be treated like hero's, you know."

* * *

"Bye, Ron!" Hermione called, giving him a swift hug as she made her way back to where her parents stood smiling.

"Bye," Ron muttered, staring self-consciously at the floor, his ears turning red, as Fred and George 'oohed' mockingly from behind.

"Is ickle-Ronniekins going to be busy writing letters this summer?" George questioned innocently, as soon as Hermione was out of sight, raising his eyebrows as Ron gave him a glare.

"Sod off," Ron demanded crossly, but immediately fell silent on catching his mother's warning eye.

"Let's just say, we've got a lot of spying to do on our little brother, this summer," Fred commented slyly as they walked up towards their father's Ford Angela.

George nodded his head solemnly in agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

So, here's chapter two. I hope you guys like it. Please do read and review, it's really motivating. The next chapter will be up real soon, I promise :)

-TTDLxxx

* * *

**LETTERS BACK AND FORTH**

* * *

****

Dear Hermione,

Harry isn't responding to any of my letters. It's really strange. Fred, George and I are probably going to use Dad's flying car and rescue him from the Muggles. We know that Mum especially, will me really mad when she finds out, but it's worth the risk. I hope to see you really soon in Diagon Alley.

Love,

Ron.

* * *

Dear Ron,

I've been having the same problem. I sent Harry quite a few letters this summer and I haven't even got a reply for one. It seems really fishy and I'm getting quite worried about him. All the same, please do not do anything drastic. Besides your Mum going ballistic, it would probably be very dangerous for you as well. Perhaps you could ask your parents if they any solution? Think about it.

All my love,

Hermione.

* * *

Dear Hermione,

Harry still hasn't replied and I'm really getting anxious and impatient. The twins and I have decided to fetch Harry on Friday night from the Muggles. Mum and Dad have told us that if by Sunday, we get no news from Harry, they will personally go and bring him back, but Sunday seems too far away. I can't stand thinking that Harry is unsafe there, and knowing that I'm doing nothing about it.

Love,

Ron.

* * *

Dear Ron,

I see you have made your choice and there is no stopping you. Well, good luck on your journey and please look after yourselves. I still think your decision is utterly barbaric, though.

All my love,

Hermione

* * *

**TALKING AND ARGUING, FACE TO FACE**

* * *

"Honestly woman, are you in love with him?" Ron question, looking at Hermione as though she were mad, as they walked up the stairs after a monotonous class of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Of course not, Ronald," Hermione replied coolly, "he's just so charming that everybody respects him and looks up to him."

"Well, I'm certainly not 'everybody'," Ron told her, with air of superiority. "One thing, though that I'm curious to know," he continued, demandingly, "is how that if it's only respect that you hold for him, why on earth were you drawing bloody hearts all over his photo during Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"What?" Hermione meekly asked, pretending she had no clue, whatsoever, about what Ron was talking about.

"Don't deny it," he sharply ordered, "I saw your book, nice and clear."

"Well, t-that was...by a-accident," Hermione finished off lamely.

"Accident!" Ron scoffed, "accident that Hermione Granger was doodling hearts all over a text-book?"

"Yes, it was," Hermione firmly told him, seeing as there was no point of coming up with ten other unbelievable excuses, "it was definitely an accident."

Ron rolled his eyes at her.

* * *

"Ron, I wanted to thank you for supporting me when Malfoy called me a you-know-what," Hermione told Ron, her eyes shining with admiration and gratitude.

"It was nothing," Ron muttered, his mouth full of food, "nothing, at all."

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Are you trying to tell me that you spat out slugs, twice every minute for nothing at all?"

"Well..." Ron started to say, but instead of completing his sentence, took another sip of his juice.

"You're just bring modest, Ron," Hermione continued for him, "and once again, I really must thank you for going to such measures for me."

"I never said that I went to such measures because of you," Ron mumbled, his cheeks flushing red.

"Well, then to such measures against Malfoy," Hermione hastily corrected.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "all because the heir of Slytherin."

* * *

"Oh, Hermione, you look dreadful!" Ron gasped, goggling at Hermione's fur covered face.

"I know," Hermione sniffed, "I had to tell Madame Pomfrey that my Transfiguration homework went all wrong, when I accidentally tried to do an advanced spell."

"Well, that sounds like you alright!" Ron laughed, clapping his hands together.

"I don't think she believed it for a second, though," Hermione muttered, "she certainly looked like she had other suspicions."

Ah, don't worry," Ron comforted, "as long as she's agreed to take you under her wing, there's no problem."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "I guess I should be glad that Madame Pomfrey isn't one who asks too many questions."

"Yeah," Ron said, groping for something in his bag, "speaking of which, I brought you a gift."

"Really?" Hermione asked, brightening up, "what is it?"

"Here," Ron told her, pulling out some papers from his bag, "class notes which I took down for you during...History of Magic, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Ooh, thanks Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, skimming through the notes which Ron handed her, "I certainly have a lot to catch up on!"

"No, not much," Ron responded, "you probably know it of it already."

"Yes, but I don't want to be lagging behind the class, just incase one of the Professors gave you any other additional notes," Hermione concluded.

Just then Madame Pomfrey came into sight, "Visiting time is over!" she called out to Ron.

"Oh, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione begged, "please let him stay a bit longer."

"No exceptions," Madame Pomfrey sternly instructed, "even if it's only your homework that's gone wrong."

Ron caught Hermione's eye and burst out in laughter.

* * *

"You know, Hermione," Ron suddenly said, one day when Harry was in detention, "we ought to come up with a suspects list of who is the heir is the Slytherin."

"Yes?" Hermione asked in an amused voice, "I think I already know who your number one suspect is."

Ron nodded his head solemnly. "None other than Draco Malfoy," he told her seriously, "I have a million reasons to prove that he is the one, you know. Firstly, he is the only person, in the whole school who hates Muggles to such an extent. Secondly, everyday he keeps blabbing to all his Slytherin thugs that he knows everything about the Chamber. Thirdly, he- he acts as though he certainly is the heir and fourthly, he...he is constantly roaming around the third floor corridor..."

"Interesting," Hermione sarcastically responded, "so presumably you feel that the Chamber is also locate on the third floor corridor?"

"Indeed I do!" Ron gasped, as though the thought hadn't struck him before, "we should make a note if that too."

"Yes," Hermione dryly said, "we should."

"Now, for my second suspect, we could have ... Lucius Malfoy!" Ron started to ramble on, "father of suspect number one, eerily suspicious, has know to be connected with the Dark Arts."

"Very well," Hermione said in a bored tone, "do you have anyone as suspect number three?"

"The Bloody Baron!" Ron exclaimed, "he lived in the time of the founders, he could be the one to know the key to where the Chamber is hidden!"

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione mused, shaking her head, "you think a ghost, is the heir of Slytherin?"

"Why not?" Ron stubbornly questioned, "in this day and age, anything is possible."

"So be it," Hermione continued, "who's up next?"

"Hmm," Ron thoughtfully said, scratching his chin, "I know! The whole of Slytherin house as a group are planning to open the Chamber of The Secrets, and the heir is amidst their in group, disguised as a Hogwarts student, but reality is an old, Dark man."

"Are serious, Ronald?" Hermione asked, bewildered, "the whole of Slytherin house being led by an anonymous leader? Anyway, I'm going to find Harry, before you come up with another bizarre theory of perhaps... Mrs. Norris or someone being the Animagus of Slytherin's heir."

"Wow, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, "you really made a good contribution there! As soon as we get back, I shall write it all down and we con have further discussions on the subject."

"Whatever you please," Hermione replied, "now are you coming with me, or not?"

* * *

**PETRIFIED- ONE SIDED CONVERSATIONS**

* * *

Hi. It really seems strange talking to you like this, especially when you're in such a state that I don't even know whether or not you can here me. Presumably you can't, but who knows. I wonder if you'll remember any of this when you wake up from this unconscious state. Harry's still in the Common Room finishing off the last bits of his homework. It's quite tough to keep up with all the studies, without your notes and your constant help, so it's getting a bit difficult for us. The teachers's are really concerned about the whole affair, and even the students are missing their usual vitality. I swear, that if I ever get my hands on the culprit, I will kill him. It seems stupid for me to say this, because if he has a huge monster at his disposal, I probably won't even stand a chance, but I'll do it. Oh, Harry's here now.

* * *

Hi again. Poor Ginny's getting really worked up about all the tension here and I'm starting to worry about her. Her first year at Hogwarts doesn't seem to be going too well. The other night Hagrid was sent away to Azkaban and Dumbledore was removed from his post as headmaster. Things are getting worse by the hour. Harry and I followed a trail of spiders that led all the way to the Forbidden Forest and we found a gigantic aracumantula, who was apparently one of Hagrid's pets. We escaped death, really closely- the bloody spider wanted to keep us as his meal. Anyway, I should go now. Visiting time's nearly up.

* * *

Oh Merlin, you are a genius, Hermione! Even when you are lying here unconscious, you are still a brilliant, ever-contributing witch. I still can't get over how it was through you that we discovered the key to the chamber. The key to entire mysterious affair. That, is also one of the main reasons that I've dropped in to meet you again. In less than an hour, Harry and I will be in the chamber, battling the heir of Slytherin and his monster. If we don't come back alive, I want you to know what a great friend you've been to us. You've helped us use our wit when it was exceptionally low and when it was absolutely negligible, you supplied us with your own. But most of all, you were a wonderful friend and I thank you for that. I guess, this is it then. I'll miss you Hermione.

* * *

**CONCLUSIONS**

"Dear Lord, I still can't believe it! I'm so very proud of the two of you!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming, as she helped herself to another piece of shepherd's pie.

"Hermione, that's the hundredth time you've said that you know," Ron laughed, "it was really you who did the majority of the work, actually."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "but I was petrified almost as soon as I realised what the monster was. The two of you were left to handle practically everything.

"Do tell me again how you went about the whole affair, Madame Pomfrey tried to fill us in as much as she could, but apparently Professor Lockhart needed to be tended to. That reminds me...what happened to him?"

Ron exchanged a sly glance with Harry. "You don't know?" he asked Hermione in mock curiosity, "it's the hot topic!"

"Honestly, Ronald, just hurry up with it," Hermione responded, shaking her head at his immature behaviour, "I'm getting impatient."

"Very well," Ron began, "I shall tell you. But if you should suffer a case of post-traumatic stress disorder, after you hear what I have to say, don't blame me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if I haven't been through traumatic times before."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "You see," he then continued, "when Ginny was taken into the chamber, all the teachers unanimously assigned the brave Professor Lockhart to the task of retrieving her from the monster's lair."

Hermione nodded her head. "Obviously," she commented.

Ron suppressed as smirk. "Well," he resumed speaking, "Harry and I just happened to overhear the teacher's conversation and naturally, we decided to help Lockhart by telling him all we knew about the chamber. When we reached his office however, the two of us got quite a shock."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, suspiciously. "What?" she questioned.

"Have you ever thought about all the great things Lockhart supposedly did?" Ron asked her.

"What do you mean by 'supposedly' Ronald?" Hermione retorted, in defence, "of course he did all those things."

"Or so we thought," Ron told her in a soft voice, as he took a bite of his meat.

Hermione let out a gasp. "How- what do you mean?" she asked in a bewildered voice.

"Memory charms," Ron brought to her notice, "the only thing he was skilful at. Every time he met an accomplished wizard or witch, he would wipe their memories and take the credit for all the things they had done. In reality, he was nothing but a coward."

"How do you know all this?" Hermione questioned weakly.

"He told us!" Ron exclaimed, "after we forced him down the chamber, he tried to wipe Harry and my memories. He was then going to claim that it was he, who had found the location of the chamber. Unfortunately for him, though, the memory charm backfired and he got a taste of his own medicine."

Hermione's jaw dropped open. "Woah...that is just unbelievable."

"I told you from the beginning that he was a good-for-nothing bloke," Ron informed her proudly, "if you hadn't been head over heals over him, you wouldn't be in such a state after hearing the truth."

"I was never mad over him, Ronald," Hermione hastily said, "and I'm not in such a horrible state, like you make me out to be in.

"All I am is a bit...shocked," she concluded.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, chapter 3 is now up :). I think chapter four will be up today as well. My due date is the 23rd, I hope I'll be able to get this done by then!

-TTDLxxx

* * *

"Harry, please tell me the truth. Are you sure you saw a grim the night you left your Aunt and Uncle's place?" Ron asked his friend for what seemed to be the hundredth time, as they descended the ladder which lead to the North Tower.

"Yes, Ron," Harry sighed, "I told you before that I did."

"Well," remarked Hermione, walking beside them, "I personally think that this whole Divination thing is nothing but a load of sentimental tosh."

"But, Hermione," Ron pressed on, "there was a grim in Harry's teacup today, and not only that, but Harry saw a grim the night he went to the Leaky Cauldron! My great-uncle died within twenty-four hours of seeing one of those creatures, you know."

"I think Harry is fortunate enough to say that he is not your great-uncle and in Harry's case at least, I am quite sure that twenty-four hours has long passed since Harry set his eyes on the grim and to my knowledge, he is still standing here, alive and kicking!"

"All the same," Ron continued, ignoring Hermione's retorts, "I strongly feel that Harry should be very cautious. It is better to be safe than sorry, after all."

"Since when have you been the precarious type?" Hermione asked in a surprised voice, raising her eyebrows.

A pink tinge appeared on Ron's cheeks. "Shut up," he muttered, pushing Hermione away, "you really need to take things more seriously."

Hermione nodded her head solemnly. "I see, Professor Ronald," she said in an innocently mocking tone, "I will try my best to live up to your expectations of me."

Harry stifled bouts of laughter and Ron's face turned the beet root red.

* * *

"Come on, Hermione!" Ron called, trying to pull her away from the entrance of the post office, "they're just overly jumpy owls, nothing special!"

"Yes, but Ron," Hermione exasperatedly said, "it's all so interesting. I read on the notice board that there are over 200 owls in there and that they all all colour-coordinated in relation to how fast you want your mail to reach your recipient."

Ron sighed. "Only you would find something like that so interesting, Hermione," he complained, "now can we go to Honeydukes? I promised Harry that I would get loads of candy for him."

"Ron, we only just got here!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Well, for now, I think that there aren't any other sites, besides the the owls of-course, at the post office. And you've already seen them!"

"Fine, Ron," Hermione cringed, "I'll come with you to Honeydukes now, but in exchange for that, we have to spend as much time as I like at Shrivencrafts."

"Deal," Ron agreed, happy to get out of the post office at any cost.

* * *

"Hermione," Ron softly called, prodding his friend in the shoulder, "Hermione, wake up."

He had come down from the Boys Dormitory early that morning to find her fast asleep on top of an Astronomy textbook, with a crystal ball and a chart of symbols beside her.

"Hermione?" Ron gently asked, shaking her slowly. At that moment, he felt her suddenly jerk awake and a feeling f self-consciousness passed through him.

"I-I just th-thought I'd wake y-you up, before e-everyone else c-came down," Ron sheepishly stammered, his cheeks turning bright red.

Hermione stared at him with a steady, unmoving gaze. "Your eyes," she abruptly said, ignoring Ron's explanation, "they're blue..."

Ron frowned suspiciously. "Well, yeah," he confirmed, "thought you'd have known by now."

Hermione shook her head. "But-but, the red-headed children I saw in the crystal ball," she said, indicating the globe beside her, "their eyes were brown. I thought- it was you and Ginny."

"Hermione," Ron firmly told her, "you need a break from studying. Today after breakfast, you are to come with me to watch Harry's Quidditch Practice."

"But-" Hermione began, in a flustered tone.

"I won't take 'no' for an answer, Hermione," Ron sharply said, "You're practically on the verge of going insane! You need a break, your body commands it!"

"Aright," Hermione sighed, knowing she had been defeated, "I'll come."

* * *

"Do you think, he's alright?" Hermione squeaked, staring at Harry through her bloodshot eyes.

Ron gave a shaky nod. "I h-hope so," he stammered, "Madame P-Pomfrey did say he'd be fine."

Hermione made a small high-pitched sound in response.

At that very moment a shuffling sort of sound was heard and everyone turned around dully to face the new arrival. It was Proffesor Flitwick. Carrying a large, wrapped package in his hands, he stumbled into the Hospital Wing, doing his best to support himself under the weight of the parcel.

He leaned exhaustedly against the wall for support, as Ron went forward to retrieve the parcel from his hands.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," the Charms Proffesor panted, "I would really be grateful if you would give Mr. Potter that package once he wakes up. It contains his broken Nimbus 2000."

"Broken?" Ron gasped. They were all so concerned about Harry, that the broomstick had laid forgotten.

"Yes," Professor Flitwick sadly declared, "it bumped into the Whomping Willow, just as Mr. Potter fell of it."

"I-is th-there no chance of re-repair, Professor," Hermione suddenly piped up, sniffling.

Professor Flitwick looked up at her, surprised. "I'm afraid not, Ms. Granger," he told her, confirming their suspicions, "you know the Whomping Willow doesn't like to be messed around with.

"Anyway," he continued, "I shall leave you here with Mr. Potter now. The rest of his team should be arriving here shortly."

Ron shook his head miserably, "Poor Harry," he whispered.

* * *

"Hermione, you are totally brilliant!" Ron exclaimed as he emerged through the portrait hole, punching the air with his fist. "The way you stormed out of Trwlawney's class was just unbelievable!"

Hermione looked up at him from her Ancient Runes text-book. "Thank you, Ronald," she said lightly, "I thought she totally deserved what she got."

"Forget whether or not she deserved it," Ron cried, "the fact that you, out of all people, walked out of class, with your nose held up high in the air was just...unimaginable."

"You would have done the same too, if she continued to rattle about the danger of a supposed grim and on top of that called your mind hopelessly 'mundane'," Hermione explained, simultaneously scribbling notes down in her book.

"Nah," Ron replied, grinning madly, "I'd probably have just told her that she was mistaking my mind for her own, nothing more than that."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Honestly, Ronald," she lectured, "sometimes you should learn to be more mature."

"Mature!" exclaimed Ron, "Me, needing to be more mature? I think you need to rephrase your statement, Hermione. Let me remind you that it wasn't me, who punched Malfoy in the face and it wasn't me who walked out in the middle of Divination class, either!"

"Prat," muttered Hermione, her smile betraying her failed attempt at trying to look cross.

Ron grinned, knowing that the winner of this argument was for once, him.

* * *

"Hermione, how are you managing it?" Ron cried, staring down at his friend, who was skimming through an Arithmancy text-book.

"It's called hard work, Ron," Hermione sighed, dipping her quill into the ink bottle beside her.

"I mean your classes," Ron groaned, "even without divination, you have Muggle Studies at the same time as your timetable says you have Ancient Runes. How is it that you get to both classes at the same time?"

"Ron, you know that is humanely impossible," Hermione hastily said, scribbling down some notes for her essay, "one can't be at two places at one time."

"Then how are you doing it?" Ron demanded, thumping his fist on the table next to him. "How do you always get to both classes?"

Hermione looked up from her work, with a bemused expression. "It's called efficiency, patience and determination, Ronald," she explained, "all three of which you seem to be lacking."


	4. Chapter 4

"Ron, what's wrong with you?" Hermione Granger inquired, grabbing her best friend's hand to try and keep up with his fast pace.

Ron shook her off indignantly and continued walking.

"Ron!" Hermione sharply cried, so much that he came to an abrupt halt and onlookers stared at them curiously. "Honestly, what's the matter with you?" she questioned, pulling him behind, "And where's Harry?"

Ron looked at Hermione, with an unmistakably seething expression embedded on his face. "The celebrity is probably up in bed, waiting for his breakfast to be served to him there," he snarled.

A shocked look crossed Hermione's face. "Are you insane?" she asked, snapping her fingers at Ron, "are you seriously telling me that the two of you have got into a petty, little fight at such a time? Harry needs support right now, Ron! How could you have got into an argument with him?"

"That's right, Hermione!" Ron roared, "It's all my fault. Harry Potter is a saint sitting there and no finger is pointed at him! All he wants is his eternal glory!"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, tears springing into her eyes, "how can you actually believe that Harry put his name in the Goblet? He would never do such a thing."

"I don't about that, Hermione," Ron responded, glaring at her, "he's capable of anything. He must have probably gone down to the goblet late one night and crossed the ageing line, with the help of some random potion. Who knows?"

"Ron," Hermione firmly instructed, "you are going to far. Harry's your best friend! How can you not trust his word?"

"Yeah, I'm crossing my limits," Ron sarcastically agreed, "it all boils down to me, doesn't it. I'm the one who's done everything wrong. It's all because of me. It's all my problem."

"Yes, it is," Hermione hissed, "and now it's up to you to fix it."

* * *

"Hey, Ginny!" Hermione called, entering the girl's dormitory, "C-can, I have a word?"

The younger girl looked up at her, "Yeah, sure," she consented, indicating the chair beside her, for Hermione to sit on, "you look worried."

"Well, that's why I wanted someone to talk to," Hermione explained, willingly seating herself on the chair, "you see, someone just a-asked me to the ball."

"Wow!" Ginny exclaimed, clapping her hands, "That's great, Hermione, did you say 'yes'?"

Hermione gave a shaky nod, as Ginny did a sort of jig around the room.

"I can't believe that prat actually asked you, Hermione!" she laughed, "He's had his eye on you since his first year, you know!"

Hermione looked at Ginny curiously. "Who are you talking about?" she asked asked uncertainly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "My brother of course," she responded, "who are you recovering to?"

"Oh, no," Hermione muttered, burying her face in her hands, "I'm not talking about Ron at all."

A disappointed expression appeared on Ginny's face. "Then who?" she asked.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. "V-Victor Krum," she managed to stutter.

She looked as though she had just been slapped. "Who?" she weakly asked again.

"I know," Hermione sighed, "but it's true. International Quidditch Player, Victor Krum asked unheard of Hermione Granger to the ball."

* * *

"Hermione, have you really got a date to the ball?" Ron questioned curiously, examining her closely. She, Harry and himself had never kept any secrets between them, and her mysterious date for the ball was upsetting him immensely.

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, exasperatedly, "For the last time, Ronald, I have!"

"Then why won't you tell me who it is?" he cried, in a peeved manner, "Just give me one clue!"

Hermione sighed. "Even, if I gave you a hundred clues, Ronald," she retorted, "you would still think it's not enough. And anyway, I've already decided to keep my date a surprise until the ball...Speaking of which, why are you so concerned about who I'm going with? You should be more worried about yourself!"

Ron glared at her. "_How was it that Hermione managed to find a date and that he and Harry had not?_ " he thought to himself, bitterly.

"You're just jealous, aren't you?" Hermione asked him slyly, reading his thoughts, "All the good looking girls have been taken, hmm? Well anyway, I should go up to the Common Room now. I promised Professor Vector that I'd make an extra chart on the rings of Saturn for the class."

"Okay..." Ron absent-mindedly said. A group of Beaubaxton girls sitting in a corner of the Great Hall, had just caught his eye, "I'll meet you there..."

"Great!" Hermione called, as she left the Great Hall, smirking in the direction of Ron's gaze.

* * *

"Hermione, you could you?" Ron shouted, as they stormed into the Common Room after a particularly horrible night, for Ron.

"How could I what?" Hermione demanded, "Go to the ball with Victor? Really, Ron, what is your problem about who I go with to the ball with? I have a mind of my own and I don't need you to dictate my life!"

"Well, at the moment, your brilliant mind seems to be making utterly wrong choices!" Ron retorted, "How could you go with someone from Durmstrang, out of all places? Fraternising with the enemy!"

"Ron, the whole point of this competition is to mix with the exchange students and be friendly with them!" Hermione shrieked, "I'm not 'fraternising with the enemy'! How could you even suggest such a thing?"

"Well, I'm sure you had much more than friendship on your mind!" Ron yelled back, "And that to, with someone who's more than a decade older than you!"

"Victor is two years older than me," Hermione hissed, through gritted teeth, "and what about you and Fleur? She's probably the same age as him and nothing was wrong when you asked her out to the ball!"

"Well..." Ron started to say in defence of himself, "that was her Veela magic acting on me. And I didn't go with her to the ball, did I?"

"Ron, the sole intention of your asking her out, was to go with you to the Ball! And you would have too, if she agreed!" Hermione cried.

"That's not the point!" Ron exclaimed, making rapid hand gestures.

"Then what, may I ask, is?" Hermione questioned, placing her hands on her hips.

"You just shouldn't have gone with him," Ron huffed, not knowing what else do say.

"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" Hermione angrily shouted.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Ron questioned, making a fist.

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before somebody else does, and not as a last resort!"

* * *

"Do you think Harry's alright in there?" Hermione asked Ron, just as the judges announced that Fleur had retired from the final quest."

"I hope so," Ron replied, "I mean, these tasks have been looked over by the ministry and all."

Hermione nodded her head shakily. At that moment, a red light appeared from somewhere inside the maze. "Oh no!" Hermione shrieked, crossing her fingers, "Please make that not be Harry!"

Ron clenched his jaw shut and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. _If Harry had sent that spark, then he must have been in some serious trouble. Harry wasn't the type of person to give up easily._

"The next retiree..." the judges announced, "is Victor Krum from Durmstrang."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin, it wasn't Harry. He glanced over at Hermione, who was peering anxiously over at the stadium, a worried expression on her face.

Ron shook his head. I bet she's probably wondering if Vicky is alright.

"How much more time does the tournament end in? Hermione suddenly questioned, waking Ron from his musings.

"Er, I think in around a quarter of an hour," Ron responded, looking at his watch, "So, if Harry doesn't come out by then, the officials-"

"Stop, Ron!" Hermione squealed, "Don't think like that! Harry will be out, he will!"

Ron looked at Hermione in shock, "I never said..." he began, but then tailed off, as a loud 'CRASH' was heard from somewhere below in the stadium.

Hermione seized Ron's hand and squeezed it tightly. "What's happened?" she asked in a high-pitched voice, worriedly.

Ron gazed down at the stadium, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on below through the many spectators' heads. "I-I think I can see Harry and...Cedric!" Ron exclaimed.

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione gasped, "Is he alright?"

"He seems to be," Ron muttered, "but then why are Dumbledore and Fudge gathered around them?"

It took less then a minute for realisation to dawn on almost all the spectators.

"He's dead!" someone cried, "Cedric Diggory's dead!"

All through the audience, people echoed this cry. The whole stadium was in chaos. Hermione rested her head in the crook of Ron's shoulder, as tears poured down her cheeks. _Thank god, it wasn't Harry...thank god..._

* * *

DISCLAIMER: Some lines have been taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, directly.


End file.
